We do not choose

our life, we are born into it
but ours is the choice
how to live it and who to be
and what to do with it-
I shortcut across the meadow
because the old road was fenced
to hedge a huge enclosure
for animal husbandry
and my soles trampled over
the wild grass, so another
wayfarer treaded along
followed by so many road users.
Rain on and off puddled
in the soleprints, so pedestrians
walked around, enlarging
the footpath into a broad road
and soon was seen heavy trucks
trundling, freighting both goods
and passengers on a regular basis
and that choice made me
a pathfinder.





Poetry by yoonoos peerbocus
Read 58 times
Written on 2025-06-03 at 06:06

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